


strangelove

by sylvermyth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bondage, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Consentacles, Just straight up porn, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Overstimulation, PWP without Porn, Smut, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 07:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth
Summary: After everything they've seen, it shouldn't surprise Shiro that Keith easily accepts even the strangest of things--like the creature he's smuggled into his room, its tentacles curling around his limbs until he's breathlessly helpless.  It should be embarrassing, but Keith just rolls with it.  It's probably why Shiro let's go so easily.  Because Keith will always be there to catch him, to accept him no matter what.





	strangelove

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caseyvalhalla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caseyvalhalla/gifts), [zenelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenelly/gifts).



> I am not-so-secretly (at least among my friends) an avid fan of tentacle sex, and it was really only a matter of time before something like this happened. I'm dedicating this to zenelly and caseyvalhalla, who egged me on and are totally just as thirsty for this as I am. This is probably the filthiest thing I've written, and I don't even care if you judge me (if you read this then you're just as guilty).
> 
> Thank you to casey for the beta <3
> 
> Title from the song with the same name, by Depeche Mode.

“Shiro?” 

Shiro froze at the sound of Keith’s voice, and it occurred to him belatedly that Keith had access to his room.  Most days, Shiro would welcome him, and maybe even press him against the sheets, or let Keith do the same to him. 

Today was different, though.  Shiro had retreated into the privacy of his room for some much-needed—well.  Privacy. And a bit of something else, and the thought of Keith catching him at it made his skin heat in a furious blush. 

Shiro pushed ineffectively at the creature coiled around him.  “What is it, Keith?” His voice came out hoarse, and he tried to swallow the grittiness of it down. “Now’s not really a good time.” 

“I—Shiro!”  Shiro’s blush deepened as Keith caught sight of him and his...companion...and rushed forward, brandishing his knife. 

“No! Don’t—it’s not dangerous!”  Shiro avoided Keith’s gaze as well as he could. “It’s—I’m fine.”

He was certain he didn’t _look_ fine, suspended in a tangle of what could only be described as tentacles, slick and strong as they held him in place, just enough to restrain him.  The tip of one slender tentacle curled curiously towards Keith, who flinched back warily. “Shiro, what’s going on?” He didn’t sheath his knife, but he was no longer on the offensive, which was almost more than Shiro had expected, all things considered. 

“Ah, uhm.”  A tentacle slid against the side of his neck, leaving a tingling trail of slick in its wake and causing Shiro to inhale sharply.  “I’m not in any danger, so, ah,” Shiro turned his head to avoid the tentacle teasing his lips. “Please—“ his words were cut off as the tentacle pushed past his lips, undeterred.  It was smooth and strong, and faintly sweet—and then the sweetness burst against his tongue as the tentacle oozed a thick liquid. Shiro nearly forgot about Keith’s presence as he swallowed it down, eager for the tingling rush that swept through his nerves.

But Keith’s gaze was sharp on him, on the way Shiro’s lips stretched around the thick appendage, and then down, where other tentacles were tugging at his clothes. 

To where Shiro was _hard_ , as much a reaction to the creature’s aphrodisiac as to the creature itself, and maybe even a little at the dangerous thrill of Keith looking on, eyes wide. 

“You like this?”  Keith did finally tuck his knife away and stepped forward, into Shiro’s space—close enough that Shiro could feel his body heat across the small distance between them (or maybe he was just that sensitive already).  Keith tugged at the tentacle still occupying Shiro’s mouth, firm but gentle, until it acquiesced and slithered out. “Tell me you want this.” And that was definitely heat in Keith’s eyes—Shiro shivered and arched into the hand Keith pressed against his still-clothed crotch. 

“Yeah, I…” Shiro trailed off with a hiss as another tentacle snaked under his shirt, distracting him.  “You’re not—?” Shiro wasn’t sure what word he was looking for. Repulsed? Jealous? Angry? They’d never really put a label on what was between them, but it was unspoken that it was exclusive, and Shiro wasn’t entirely certain that this went against that. Was it so different from using his own hands to get himself off?  He was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t, but then, the whole point of it was _not_ to think. 

“Shiro,” and this time Keith’s voice was unmistakably deeper, “if you want this, I’m only disappointed that you didn’t think to include me.”  He pulled his hand away to cup Shiro’s cheek instead, until Shiro’s face was framed between his hand and the hesitant tentacle still lingering near his mouth.  Keith caught Shiro in his gaze, hot and hungry, and Shiro’s eyes fluttered against the onslaught. “Let me watch.” 

Shiro moaned at the thought of Keith’s eyes on him while the creature took him apart, as embarrassed by the thought as he was turned on, and his head was already feeling hazy but not so much that he couldn’t decide on his own that _he wanted Keith to watch_ .  “Yes, _please_.”  Shiro nodded to emphasize his assent, and was rewarded with a kiss, Keith licking into his mouth to sample the lingering sweetness there. 

Keith pulled back reluctantly, and Shiro tried to chase his mouth, but the creature tightened its hold on him so that he couldn’t.  Shiro made a noise of complaint and struggled against the hold, though it was a half-hearted attempt. Keith chuckled, smoothing his thumb over Shiro’s mouth and pushing it in when Shiro relaxed and parted his lips.  “Good boy, Takashi,” he murmured. Shiro’s breath caught, because he would never be over Keith calling him by his given name, and then Keith was stepping back and settling into the chair in the corner of the room. “Let me see it all.” 

Once Keith’s hands were gone, Shiro’s attention was drawn back to the creature holding him captive.  Its tentacles were making a slow exploration of his skin, pushing up his shirt to wind around his torso, slender tendrils flicking curiously at the nubs of his nipples until he arched into them—and then they were curling around them in earnest, tugging them into peaks and sending a fresh wave of heat through him.  His clothes felt too hot, too tight, and Shiro writhed, wanting them _off_ , and the creature seemed to pick up on it, curling tentacles under Shiro’s shirt and through the sleeves until it was over his head and bunched around his wrists, trapping him two-fold. 

His pants were another story. The creature was slow to take interest in his lower half—or maybe it was just teasing—doing little more than supporting his thighs as it played with Shiro’s nipples and along his flanks, leaving his skin tight with delicious sensation. 

And then one of the tentacles found the trail of hair leading from his naval and followed it down, making Shiro’s hips jerk in a bid for _more, lower_ , his breath already ragged with arousal, his cock already straining.  Shiro bit his lip, hard, when he felt the first questing touch on his cock, a strangled sound caught in his throat.  Keith caught his gaze across the room, eyes dark and dangerous, hand palming his own cock through his pants. Keith licked his lips.  “Let me hear you, Takashi.” It was quiet and commanding, enough to prompt Shiro to release his lip from between his teeth, and let a moan fall from his lips as the tentacle curled around his cock, slick and hot and firm.  “That’s it, baby.” Shiro flushed unexpectedly at the praise. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

Shiro shook his head, choked out, “ _More_ ,” and was cut off by a tentacle thrusting into his mouth, aggressive and unrelenting as it forced his lips wider, until his jaw almost ached with it.  More tentacles finally yanked his pants and boxers away in one go. His cock was still wrapped sweetly in the coils of one, pulling him off languidly, teasing at his slit, but it wasn’t _enough_.  Shiro whined, the sound garbled against the thing in his mouth—it pushed deeper in response, filling him until he thought he would gag, but the blunt end of the tentacle was only a pleasant pressure at the back of his throat. 

There was a hiss from Keith, closer than Shiro remembered him being, but he was too preoccupied to shift his attention, because the tentacles wrapped around his thighs were spreading them, sending a thrill of anticipation through him.  One of the more slender tendrils teased at his entrance, dragging slick behind his balls and between his cheeks until Shiro was writhing again, _wanting_. 

Still, it was almost a surprise when it finally pressed in, thicker than he expected, curling and thrusting in time with the one in Shiro’s mouth.  Enough of a surprise that some part of Shiro _gave_ , making his eyes flutter as he relaxed a fraction, letting the pleasure wash over him.  He grunted when another tentacle pressed in alongside the first, stretching him just on the right side of _too much_ , both of them sliding in and out easily with the slick that coated them.  It was _good_ , made him feel _full_ , and then Shiro went rigid, jolting in white-hot pleasure as one of them found his prostate.  He moaned, the sound muffled by the tentacle still thrusting lazily in his mouth, hips rocking, greedy for it, an attempt to chase the release he could already feel building low in his gut. 

“Takashi.”  Shiro fought to see Keith through his haze of pleasure.  “ _Fuck_ , look at you.” Shiro curled his hands around the fabric of his shirt, still bunched around his wrists, needing something to anchor him, because watching Keith fuck his own fist was going to bring him off too soon.  It was overwhelming, being fucked on both ends making him feel so _full_ , the wet sound of it obscene, and Keith watching him, just out of reach—Shiro squirmed, trying to chase the feeling of _too good_ , because he was so, so _close_ — 

The tentacles wrapped around his cock shifted and tightened, effectively preventing him from coming, and Shiro let out a strangled wail at the denial, tossing his head until his mouth was free.  He gasped in ragged breaths, shuddering because the tentacles in his ass were still fucking into him, faster now, stroking his insides with every thrust, pressing against his prostate until Shiro thought he would burn up with it. 

And still he was denied his orgasm, his cock unbearably hot and heavy and sensitive, wet with precome and the creature’s slime.  Shiro jerked abruptly as he felt more tentacles sliding across his ass, tips pressing at his oversensitive rim. 

He distantly heard Keith’s soft “ _Fuck_ ,” and then he could only focus on the burning stretch of _more tentacles_ pushing into him, and it felt impossible, that he could accommodate them without breaking, sending a thread of fear through him.  But Keith’s voice was near, next to his ear murmuring,“You’re doing so good, baby.” Shiro hadn’t seen him move, but he could feel him now, a solid presence at his side, a hand stroking soothingly over his skin.  It was enough to calm Shiro, and the fullness inside him still felt _too much_ , but he sank into the sensation, letting it wash over him.  Keith’s fingers brushed against his lips, then pushed into his open mouth, and Shiro practically whined at the bitter-saltiness of come coating Keith’s fingers, licking it up eagerly— _Keith had come watching him_ — 

Shiro’s orgasm caught him by surprise, the pressure at the base of his cock loosening suddenly to grant him the release, and he choked out a sob of relief around Keith’s fingers.  He was vaguely aware of his own come hot and wet against his skin, the room around him fuzzy and too bright, and _still_ the tentacles fucked into him. 

Keith was murmuring words of praise and wonder against his ear, stroking over Shiro’s lips with his thumb, the other hand snaking down between Shiro’s legs to trace his sensitive rim, and it was _too much_ , oversensitivity making him burn hot with pleasure-pain.  His throat was raw from the sounds he'd made--was still making--as well as the tentacles that had been pushing past his lips, but he barely felt it, his head lolling to the side to be cupped in Keith's hand.  He was tense and pliant all at once, his body confused by how good he felt even as he was being pushed into _too much_. 

Shiro was whimpering softly when the tentacles in his ass surged, and then stilled, and he could feel the slick inside of him building until it was trickling out, a tickle of wetness sliding between his cheeks and down his balls, joining the sweat that was already beading there.  The tentacles retreated slowly, and Shiro let out sigh, of relief or disappointment, he wasn't sure, but just as he thought they were going to leave him, one of them paused, then stopped completely, the tip just inside his rim. Shiro inhaled with a hiccuping gasp at the feel of it, flaring out to keep him stretched, to keep the creature's release _inside_ of him. 

"Fuck," he breathed, the sound hoarse as he tried to squirm against the tentacle plugging him up.  It was as useless as all his other struggling had been--worse, even, because every move jostled the tip of the tentacle against his prostate, and made him hyperaware of how _wet_ he was inside.  Shiro's cock was still impossibly hard, and this--this was exquisite torture. 

It was exactly what he'd wanted. 

Keith stroked fingers through Shiro's hair, murmuring words that Shiro was having trouble parsing.  It didn't matter, because the creature was cradling him in its tentacles, and though he was bound he felt safe and comfortable and warm and _good_.  He went liquid-pliant all at once, relaxing into it, eyes half-mast as he caught Keith's rapturous gaze. 

Shiro finally focused enough to hear Keith's amazed, "Look at you, I've never seen you like this.  So perfectly fucked out and soft." He pressed more kisses to Shiro's face, along his throat, just under his ear, affectionate.  Keith dragged his tongue against Shiro's skin to taste the sweat and tentacle slick gathered there, scraped his teeth until Shiro groaned again, hips twitching ineffectually.  "I wanna fuck you like this." Keith's breath was hot, the words spoken right into his ear, and Shiro's tongue felt thick in his mouth as he tried to form a response. "I'm already hard again, Jesus, Shiro." 

"The--its slick," Shiro slurred.  "Does things." He'd discovered that, already, that his refractory period was so much shorter if he lapped at the tentacles, swallowed down the spurts of sweetness that had to be more than just an aphrodisiac.  But there were more important things to worry about, like the fact that Keith wanted to fuck him. "Want you," was all he could manage, but it was enough. 

Shiro felt the press of Keith's teeth against his throat, sharp enough to grab and hold his attention even more than the hot slide of tentacles against him, and Shiro had a moment of fuzzy confusion, because Keith was _still wearing clothes,_ somehow.  It made Shiro feel all the more exposed, naked and spread open and wrecked while Keith had barely done more than unzip his pants to take his cock out.  He flushed, hot with the thought even as Keith's fingers dug into his thighs alongside the tentacles, urging his legs up. It brought Shiro's feet off the floor and completely at the mercy of Keith and the creature that held him--though he hadn't even been able to support his own weight for a while now. 

The tentacle was still plugging him up as Shiro was suspended, and Keith had manipulated him so that he was nearly bent in half, his own cock hot against his belly.  He whined, his toes curling, impatient for Keith, who was teasing a finger just inside Shiro's sensitive rim, tugging at it and watching the wetness gush out of him. "God, Shiro," Keith murmured, "you're so wet, so messy."  Keith fingered him alongside the tentacle while Shiro moaned, until he thought he couldn't take it anymore, and then Keith was tugging the tentacle away, out, leaving Shiro gaping and empty. 

" _Please please please_ ," Shiro begged, because he needed to be filled, needed something hard pressing against his insides.  He practically wailed when Keith slid into him all at once, slick and easy and _perfect_.  Shiro felt himself clenching down around Keith's dick, trying to feel every drag of sensation.  Keith's fingers pressed harshly into the meat of his thighs, holding Shiro in place as he fucked into him, and Shiro could feel the bite of Keith's zipper with every hard thrust into him. 

There was no slow and gentle, like this, they were both too worked up, and Shiro gave himself over to Keith's frantic thrusts, just taking it and loving every moment of it, his voice tripping out of him in a near-endless stream of wordless sound.  His cock dragged against the fabric of Keith's shirt, the sensation just short of too harsh, and then it was pressed tight between them as Keith leaned down to kiss him, open-mouthed and wet and filthy, and when a tentacle snaked tentatively between them, they both lapped at it, tongues pressing against it and each other. 

Keith's breath hitched, suddenly, and then he was hissing out a string of curses, his hips jerking erratically in a way that made Shiro's own cock jump between them.  Shiro tried to blink against the haze of arousal to see what had made Keith react, but then they were both being tilted back, further into the cocoon of tentacles holding Shiro, and Shiro realized that there were tentacles wrapping around Keith, too, not quite as aggressive as they'd been with him, but enough to take control away from Keith. 

Keith's hands drifted off of Shiro's thighs to wrap around him and clutch at his back, helpless sounds in his throat as his hips continued pushing him into Shiro.  "Fuck--fuck, it's big, Shiro," he gasped, and it finally dawned on Shiro that the tentacles had decided Keith was fair game, too. 

Shiro struggled against the tentacles holding him still, but they didn't budge.  This hadn't been part of his plan, and he was torn between wanting to stop it from fucking into Keith, and being turned on even more as Keith shuddered against him.   He managed to grit out, "Are you--is this okay?" because he had to make sure. He didn't want to, but if it came to it, he could activate his prosthetic to get them out. 

"Y-yeah," Keith breathed, nodding against him, and Shiro slumped in relief. 

It was a little strange, knowing that each of Keith's thrusts into Shiro was a reaction to the tentacle (tentacles?  Was it giving him more than one like it had Shiro?) fucking into him, a sensuous hot slide. Shiro wanted to touch him, to run his hands over Keith, under his clothes to feel skin--wanted to strip him down until they were pressed together naked--but the tentacles kept him helpless even to do that, and they didn't seem inclined to push Keith's clothes off the way they had with Shiro.  It made Shiro desperate, wanting to feel more, _more_ \-- 

When more came, it wasn't Keith's skin.  Instead, Shiro felt the tip of a tentacle pressing against his ass, pushing in alongside Keith's dick, and it made Shiro's eyes roll back in his head, it felt so good.  Keith made a muffled noise against Shiro's neck, and then his hips were jerking helplessly, spilling come into Shiro, adding to the wetness coating his insides. 

Shiro let out his own weak cry as he came, another tentacle curling around his cock between him and Keith and smearing it against Shiro's skin.  He felt filthy and used but in the best way, boneless as the tentacles finally slithered away. Keith gasped, and Shiro felt the loss as Keith slid out of him--could feel come and slick dripping from his gaping ass because he'd been stretched so wide.  He felt empty until Keith's fingers pressed into him, pushing the slick mess back into him, and Shiro sighed. 

He drifted, only barely aware of the tentacles uncurling from his arms, first, so that he could drop them to Keith's shoulders.  They still cradled him and Keith, but Shiro was dimly aware of being moved, until he was settled against the plush nest of his bed, with Keith still tucked against him, lazily fingering him.  Keith murmured soft praises in his ear, until Shiro was coming once more, a weak jerk of his cock that earned him a shower of kisses from Keith. 

The creature retreated, tentacles curling back towards its core, so that it was just Keith and Shiro.  They were both a mess, though Keith looked positively _debauched_ in his rumpled clothes, pants still bunched around his thighs where they'd been pushed down, and Shiro felt a curl of satisfaction at that.  Distantly, he thought that they should clean up, but he felt like molten liquid, unable to do more than sigh under Keith's affectionate touches. 

Keith pulled away suddenly (slowly, but it felt sudden in Shiro's floaty state), and Shiro made a sound of protest, hands reaching for him.  "Shh, I'm not going anywhere," Keith promised. Shiro whined, but Keith _always_ came back, so he curled against the blankets and waited.  The bed dipped as Keith settled back down next to him, pressing something to Shiro's lips.  "Drink, baby," he soothed, and Shiro sucked on the straw agreeably, tilting his head into Keith's hand as he stroked Shiro's hair.  "There you go." 

Shiro wondered if he would ever be over how much Keith's voice gentled when it came to him.  Someone so strong and rough as Keith, but when they were alone like this, he was the softer than Shiro could ever have imagined.  "You're perfect, Keith," Shiro croaked. He languished as Keith dragged a warm, wet rag over him, cleaning him up, smiling at Shiro with a perfectly fond expression.  "I love you so much." 

Keith chuckled and caught his gaze, intense and serious.  "I love you, too, Takashi." He tossed the rag to the side and stretched out next to Shiro again, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple.  Shiro realized Keith had shucked his clothes, and burrowed closer to him, basking in the skin-on-skin contact. "Even if you are a kinky little shit." 

Shiro hummed.  "Not little. And you liked it, too." 

Keith didn't deny it, just gathered Shiro closer in his arms and shushed him.  "Rest." 

Shiro nodded, eyes already slipping shut, feeling perfectly safe and sated, because he was with Keith.

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://sylvermyth.tumblr.com)


End file.
